


A Whole New Kind of Creature

by Shinokama



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Other, other characters to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2721788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinokama/pseuds/Shinokama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU where Dean and Sam go out to sea, hunting a mysterious aquatic monster Dean doesn't even believe exists. After all, no one he's ever known has said anything about sea monsters being real. But he's in for a big surprise, as he finds exactly what kind of creatures lurk in the vast ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this kind of sleepy to avoid studying for finals, I thought it was good enough to upload. I have lots of ideas for where this story will go, but if anyone wants to throw in ideas or parings in the comments I'm open to suggestions :)

“Sammy, I really can’t stand you sometimes,” Dean griped, holding on to the slippery railing of the boat for dear life. He swallowed down the bile that rose at the back of his throat in response to the swaying of the floor under him with a harsh sigh.

“Like I knew there was going to be a huge storm the night that we came out here!” Sam retorted angrily, pushing his hair out of his face. He peered worriedly at the skyline, and Dean fully knew the oncoming storm would not be a good one from the way the dark clouds were gathering over them.

“Both of you idjits get back in here!” Bobby said in a gruff voice from behind them. The boys turned and followed Bobby into the cockpit as the wind picked up behind them.

“So we’re basically stuck in the middle of this bullshit until it passes over us,” Dean said, cutting a glare at Sam, who opened his mouth to argue.

“I didn’t know there was going to be a storm, Dean!” He shot back again, throwing his hands up.

“Hey, we shouldn’t even be here and you know it,” Dean growled back in a low voice, stabbing a finger at his younger brother. He looked up into the taller man’s face and grimaced. “We hunt _real_ monsters, not some made up Locke Ness bullshit!”

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, pressing his lips together as he bit back his anger. “We are hunting a _real_ monster,” He retorted in a low voice. “What the hell do you call all those reports? Fishing accidents?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, nodding. “Yeah, fishing accidents made by drunk fishermen who don’t want to admit they were too drunk to properly secure their catches and nets.”

Bobby tried to interject, but was overrun by Sam’s insistence. “And the dead ones? What about them Dean?” He demanded loudly. “Were they just too drunk to avoid getting limbs ripped off, bites gouged out of their bodies?”

Bobby sighed and rolled his eyes as Dean let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Yeah, cause fucking shark attacks are fucking _unheard_ _of_ in the fucking ocean, especially on drunk idiots who fall in and flop around like dying fish.”

“And they got back into their boats exactly how, Dean?” Sam demanded, crossing his arms. “Huh?”

“Oh for the love of all that’s holy,” Bobby muttered, going to check on the beeping controls of the small ship.

“I don’t know Sammy, they crawled back in after they got turned into a human happy meal maybe?” Dean snipped back.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed sarcastically. “Sure. All fifteen cases, right?”

“You know what the media loves to do?” Dean countered, stabbing a finger in a vague direction.  “They fucking love taking weird cases and stringing them all together to make it look like something crazy is happening when it isn’t.”

“Don’t give me that, you and I _specifically_ deal with weeding out weird cases from bullshit, and we decided that-“

“No, _you and Bobby_ decided that-“

“Dammit, you two, shut up!” Bobby yelled, making both the brothers jump slightly away from the other’s face. He stormed back to the two, livid.

“You,” he said, pointing at Dean. “I know you don’t like being in the ocean, but you know full well there is something fishy going on out here.” He glared as Sam groaned.

“Bad pun, Bobby.”

“No fuckin’ pun intended, I assure you,” Bobby spat back, returning his glare to the shorter of the brothers in time to see his eye rolling.

“I don’t care what the hell you think, or what you,” he turned, jabbing a finger at Sam “think, because right now we have a bigger problem.”

“Which is?” Dean asked, making an exasperated face.

“The ship lost its power; we’re basically just going to be floating for the time being.” Dean turned away from them, muttering darkly as he pinched the bridge of his nose hard.

“So drop the anchor and we can ride out the storm?” Sam asked.

“We could,” Bobby mused. “But anchors are a real bad idea in storms out in the open ocean. I radioed out an emergency signal already, but they might not get out here to us before this shit hits and blows us too far off the coordinates I gave them.”

“Why’s the power down, Bobby?” Dean asked, coming back from the darkening window.

“Dunno, some engine malfunction maybe,” he answered. “I’d have to go check the engine to see, but I don’t know much about boats. It’s a rental, I’m not fucking with it unless I have to, those bastards are gonna be payin’ for renting me a messed up boat,” he growled.

“Yeah, if we don’t capsize and die in this first,” Dean shot back, glancing out the window again.

Sam followed his gaze, his stomach dropping at how black the sky was getting. “How long did they say it’d take them to get here?” He asked.

“’Bout an hour, maybe two,” Bobby said, shifting uncomfortably.

“That isn’t gonna be fast enough,” Dean said, gesturing to the window. “Thing thing’s gonna hit us full force in twenty minutes, maybe thirty if we’re lucky.”

Lightning lit the sky as if on cue to his words, and the three men jumped as fat rain drops began pelting the glass. “Fantastic,” Dean muttered. Sam sighed harshly as Bobby turned to the radio again.

“Look, it’s going to be okay,” Sam tried, sighing again as his older brother gave him a withering look in response. “Look, I’m sorry, I know the ocean is the one thing you hate as much as flying.”

“Yeah,” Dean said bitterly, “Why the hell am I surprised this would happen.”

All three men gasped as something hit the bottom of their boat, causing it to dip wildly. Sam stumbled and crashed into Dean before he could right himself, and Bobby cursed vehemently as the radio cord was ripped from the console as he lurched sideways.

“Goddamit! Goddam fuckin’ fancy ass technology havin’ shit wired up to control panels and shit!” Bobby spat as Dean untangled himself from his lanky brother. “It’s fuckin’ broke,” He stated as Dean helped Sam back to his feet.

“You sure about that?” Dean said sarcastically, ducking as Bobby chucked the now useless bit of handset at him.

“What was that?” Sam asked, opening the door to the cockpit to look out.

“Did we hit land or somethin’?” Bobby asked as Dean followed Sam out the door.

“No,” Sam answered, looking around confused.

“Nope,” Dean said, “Still out in the middle of the godforsaken ocean.” He squinted in the growing rain and peered over the side of the boat. “Get me a flashlight; I think something might have hit the propeller.”

Sam came to look beside him as Bobby went back in to hunt for a flashlight, sounds of things being tossed around coming from behind them.

“Do you think it’s the thing that’s killing all the fishermen?” Sam asked quietly, scanning the choppy waves as intently as he could in the now sharp rain. He pushed his soaked hair out of his eyes as Bobby came back out with a couple of flashlights, handing one to Dean and keeping the other for himself.

Dean ignored Sam’s question and scanned the black waters with the beam, and Sam saw a shadow dart under the water.

“Dean!” He sputtered, grabbing his brother’s shoulder as Bobby cursed softly.

“I saw it,” Dean hissed back, trying to follow the shape as it disappeared under the boat. “Fucking great, a sea monster,” he spat, his heart pounding. “I changed my mind. I hate the ocean _way_ _more_ than I hate flying.”

Bobby and Dean searched more with the lights, Sam in between them and scouting. All three saw the shape return, a long, black shadow even darker than the water that held it, and all three gasped as a second shape even larger than the first appeared behind it.

“Shit!” Bobby exclaimed. “There’s two!”

“They’re circling the boat,” Sam said in alarm, looking to Bobby for guidance while Dean tried to catch the shapes as they flashed around the beam’s range.

“They’re fucking fast, whatever they are,” Dean said in a low voice, holding on with his free hand as the wind picked up and the waves slapped against the side of the boat with greater force. The boat swayed and rocked unsteadily, every now and then jolting harshly as the things under the water would hit the bottom of it.

“I’m getting the harpoons,” Bobby declared loudly over the wind, wiping rain from his face and smacking Sam on the shoulder. He turned to the cockpit and struggled against the wind to open the door.

Sam grabbed Dean’s shoulder, raising his voice to be heard as well. “I’m gonna go with him, keep an eye out!” Dean rolled his eyes in response, a bump and flash of movement ripping his gaze away from his brother and anxiously back to the choppy sea.

Sam and Bobby struggled with the door before getting it open against the heavy winds. Dean looked over his shoulder as they disappeared and turned his attention back to the water, his heart pounding. He could handle evil clowns, evil spirits, vampires, werewolves; you name it, no problem. He hadn’t met a monster he was intimidated by since he was a child just learning the ropes.

Now though, he was definitely intimidated. It was the worst time to figure out he didn’t do well with sea monsters. His eyes raked over the black sea, trying to detect any more movements. It struck him that the sea itself looked like a gaping black maw, ready to swallow him whole. He flinched as a giant wave slapped his hand and arm, thunder booming across the sky that was now almost as black as the sea.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, telling himself that he didn’t just whimper. The boat rocked wildly as thunder and lightning hit as one, the lightning striking the water and for a split moment illuminating it better than his flashlight could ever hope to. The shapes were lit up, one disappearing under the boat before Dean could see it, the other following quickly. But not before he saw how big the second shape was.

“That must be fucking fifteen feet long,” Dean said out loud, his voice shaking. Rain stung at his face and arms as he tried to get himself together, the wind loud in his ears. He tried to get the pictures of creatures from a deep sea documentary he had seen once out of his mind, the memory of oversized teeth and giant, dead-looking eyes making him shiver.

He saw the beam of light from Bobby’s flashlight land on his hand, and turned around with one hand on the slick railing to stabilize himself as he watched him and Sam come back out. They winced at how the storm had intensified in the short time they had been gathering things, and hesitated at the door.

“Lightening hit, one of the things must of been fifteen feet long!” Dean shouted at them, raking his flashlight beam across their alarmed faces. Wind blew harshly and rain pelted his eyes, making him flinch. “Dammit,” he muttered, freeing his grip on the railing to brush some of the wetness out of his eyes.

The ship was hit with another powerful bump, a wave washing over the far side of the boat. Dean stuttered and his heart thrashed violently up to his throat as he lost his balance. His arms flailed wildly as his back hit the railing hard, and before he could right himself he slipped on the wet floor and went head-first over the side of the boat.

He heard Sam and Bobby’s panicked yells as he hit the side of the boat, but less than a second later he was in the unforgiving water, waves crashing over his head and tossing him around like he was a rag doll. He couldn’t get images of the creatures surrounding the boat from his mind and panic seized his brain. He slapped at the water before inhaling some of a wave, trying to keep his head afloat.

“Dean!” He heard Sam roar from above. It seemed so high up. Dean couldn’t even look; he was too busy sputtering for air and trying not to drown. Something under the water hit him, hard, and what little breath he had left was knocked out from him as he tumbled under the water.

He wrenched his eyes open despite the sting of salt water, needing to see his attacker. He could only see blackness, absolute blackness. It was a void that surrounded him. He felt something rush by him, spinning him around in the water. He thought his chest would explode from the fear and lack of air. He tried to figure out which way was up, but was knocked again by whatever was assaulting him.

He had absolutely no sense of direction anymore, which was was up or down or sideways. The bitter thought of death entered his mind, and Dean instinctively pushed it away. He was a hunter. If he was gonna die it would be fighting, not drowning. He determinedly kicked in a direction, his foot hitting a shifting mass of muscle. _Good_ , he thought. _Come get some._

His head broke the surface of the water and he gasped at the salty air, gaining a single breath before a harsh wave hit him and forced him back under. A sharp pain tore into his left shoulder and he felt the warm rush of blood. He lashed out by instinct, a fin clipping his jaw. He got his head above water again, gasping for breath as lightning hit again. The thing, whatever it was, was coming straight at him, its black shape briefly illuminated.

Terror hit his heart and he kicked out as hard as he could, hitting the thing just as it reached him. It broke the water and Dean heard a harsh, inhuman screech before it was back under and lashing out with its tail. Dean was hit again, his breath knocked out of him for the second time as he went careening back under the waves. Any hope that the creature was something as simple as a shark was gone, the screech still lingering in Dean’s ears as proof.

He got his head above the surface again, right as something tore across his calf. He cried out in pain as it held on and dragged him back under, pulling him deeper into the black water. Lightning hit again with the distant sound of thunder, and the sea was momentarily lit up. Dean caught a glimpse of the monster that held him and screamed without thinking. Shark-like fins and webbed arms and rows of razor-sharp teeth set in an almost human face was what he saw, soulless black eyes meeting his own until the water was returned to darkness a second later.

He was jerked around again as something hit the thing holding him, and suddenly his injured leg was free. He kicked out with it despite the pain and tried to get to the surface, ignoring the stinging in his shoulder and calf. He almost broke through, but a wave crashed into him, not allowing him to take a breath. He could feel his lungs, burning and tight, and struggled against the instinct to inhale.

Waves battered him and he couldn’t get his head out of the water, and despite his struggling his body took over and tried to breathe; only succeeding in pulling burning water into his lungs. He coughed but only inhaled more water, his body spasming. He realized he was drowning and tried in vain to get to the surface, but he couldn’t figure out which way was up anymore.

Something hit him hard in the chest and injured shoulder, and the pain made him see little spots of light in his otherwise sightless vision. He couldn’t make his body struggle anymore and felt himself fading out, despite his effort to keep fighting. The thing had a hold on his shirt and was dragging him through the water at a ridiculously fast speed, and Dean blacked out right as he felt his face break the surface of the water.

  


 

_Shark fins, webbed hands, rows of sharp teeth, black, soulless eyes…_

Dean gasped and woke up to sunlight beaming hotly on his face. He gasped for air, panting as his last memory of being underwater hit him. He sat up with a wince as his shoulder protested, and looked at it to find some sort of green muck had been slapped on it. Dean picked at it, finding it dry and crusted over his injury. It was almost like a makeshift bandage. He studied it more. Actually, it was a lot like a makeshift bandage, from his expertise. A quick glance at his calf showed the same green stuff on it as well.

Someone had bandaged him up? He looked around himself; he was sitting on a giant, relatively flat rock, at least three times his size. A rock surrounded by water, with an island within swimming distance. The rest around him was open ocean, and he didn’t see any signs of ships. A noise caught his attention, a slapping sound like flesh hitting stone.

“What-?” Dean snapped his gaze around and looked down, his mouth open in a shocked ‘o’ of surprise at the wide baby blue eyes that looked back up at him. Dean began to say something, but was stopped short at the tail he saw trailing behind the man. It was blue and black, with several fins symmetrical on each side, and at least seven feet long.

It swayed in the water behind him, and as the man lifted himself up farther onto the rock, Dean saw that the tail was definitely attached to the man’s bare torso. Dark hair was brushed wetly back from the man’s open and curious face, and his head tilted to the side as he leaned forward on his arms. He chirruped softly, and Dean jumped.

“Fucking Christ!” he spat out, making the creature flinch back with a small squeal, the fins on its tail puffing out quickly before retracting closely to its tail, the entire thing then disappearing under the water.

It looked more scared than Dean felt, and he found himself letting out an explosive chuckle at the ludicrous notion. That was too much noise for the startled creature, and it quickly flipped away into the ocean with a sharp cry, leaving Dean abandoned.

Dean stared dumbly after it for a few minutes, wondering if it would come back. He could have been hallucinating, but the shark creature from the previous night made him inclined to think he had honestly just seen what he had just seen.

“A mermaid.” He said out loud in a flat voice. He and Sam and Bobby had come all the way out to the ocean for mermaids. He couldn’t believe it. Never, ever, had his dad or any other hunter he had ever come across mentioned anything about mermaids. Not once. And definitely not mermaids that looked more shark than human.

That puzzled him, and he wondered if the more human-looking thing he had just encountered wasn’t dangerous. He glanced at the green stuff on his arm again, and figured it had probably been that thing that had patched him up. It may have even rescued him last night.

Dean tried to compare the length of the creature he saw a moment ago to the smaller dark shape he had seen on the boat before, and concluded the lengths were similar enough that he was probably right. Which meant the shark creature was chasing the mermaid? Or had they been working together?

Were they a team, luring fishermen out to their deaths? Dean figured if that had been the case he would already be dead, and decided that the mermaid had probably been the target of the shark creature before Dean accidentally fell into the water.

That still didn’t clarify why or how the shark creature was killing fishers, or if it even was, but Dean’s instinct said that was the right monster and for the time being he was going to go with it.

But there was no sign of the shark creature or the mermaid now, and Dean realized somewhat belatedly how bad his situation seemed. He was stranded on a rock with no rescue in sight. No telling how far off he’d been dragged. He looked to the island that wasn’t too far off; it looked like it had some shade from the trees on the beach line.

With a wary look into the water Dean slipped off the rock and began swimming as quickly as he could to the island, nagging thoughts of what could be under him constantly in the back of his mind. He gasped as his foot hit something before he realized it was sand, and with relief waded to the shallows.

The green stuff that was previously crusted on his arm was now wet and disgustingly like mucus, and so Dean decided to wash it off to the best of his ability. His arm wasn’t so bad, a deep cut running across his shoulder, but his calf was sliced open cleanly; he would need stitches.

As soon as Dean saw how bad his leg was he regretted taking the mucus stuff off; at least it had kept the wound closed. But it was too late to get it back, so he got back onto the beach and used the knife that was still strapped to his uninjured leg to cut his shredded pant leg, making it into a makeshift bandage.

He just wished his shoes had made the trip as well. With a sigh he took off his socks placed them over a nearby tree branch to dry and decided to set about looking for fresh water. His throat was like sandpaper.

After quickly finding clean fresh water and spending several blissful minutes just drinking, Dean set about finding food and shelter. He had no idea how long he would be on the island, but he felt a little better when he found several fruit trees with plenty of food on them.

There had been no hostile animals that he had seen so far, which was relieving, but Dean was glad he had his knife regardless. He kept it ready, but saw no sign that he needed the protection.

The sun was slowly going down by the time Dean had made a makeshift shelter good enough to actually sleep in. His leg was throbbing horrendously, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he ignored it until it hurt too much to walk on.

With a sigh Dean decided to take a break. He grabbed a piece of fruit and sat down in the sand, arms on his knees, and looked to the rock he had woken up on. Surely the thing couldn’t have dragged him very far away from their boat. Unless the storm blew it further away than he was accounting for. Or the waves had capsized it, washing his brother and Bobby out to sea.

“No, get it together,” Dean said out loud, mentally shaking himself. Bobby and Sam were just fine. They had probably gotten rescued and were on the hunt to find him.

“Any day now,” Dean muttered out loud, noticing how he was already talking to himself. “Can’t go all Castaway,” he grumbled, taking a bite of the fruit. “I don’t even have a volleyball to be friends with.”

Dean looked up as he heard a strange clicking sound and to his surprise found the creature—mermaid—swimming in the shallows and looking at him with cautious curiosity.

“Hey!” he said, starting to get up. The mermaid swam away from as he stepped into the water, small waves lapping at his ankles. Dean paused and the creature came back into the shallows, ten or so feet away from him.

It chirruped at him again and looked at him quizzically, glancing to his shoulder and back to his face.

 “You..um. Boat?” Dean asked, gesturing to the open ocean. The creature shrank away slightly and Dean dropped his arm slowly, not wanting to scare the thing off. “You know where the boat went?” He tried again, enunciating his words slowly.

He didn’t really expect to get anywhere with trying to talk to it, but what the hell. The thing looked half human, he might as well try.

The mermaid looked behind him, where Dean had pointed. “B-boat.” It said back in a low voice. It clasped its hands together, looking unsure.

Dean blinked in shock. “Can you understand me?” He asked, his heart racing.

“Un..der..sand?” It said haltingly, concentration etched across its face as it struggled to speak.

“This is crazy!” Dean said excitedly, startling the creature. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, not wanting it to leave again. “Can you take me back to the boat?” He asked, taking a step deeper in the water. He hissed in pain as the saltwater seeped through his cloth bandage around his calf, getting distracted.

He heard a clicking sound and the mermaid drew closer, looking worried.

“’S okay, just stings,” Dean reassured, wondering how much the thing could understand. “How much of what I’m saying are you getting?” He asked slowly, watching as the creature concentrated on his words.

“S..slow,” it said, looking apologetic. It wrung at its hands, shrugging its shoulders up briefly.

“Okay, I need to talk slower?” Dean asked, shifting his weight to lift his calf out of the burning water. He saw it glance at his leg, a concerned look on its face.

Suddenly it motioned to him. “Hey!” it said, making ‘come here’ motions. For a minute Dean debated on if he should go farther out to meet it or not, finally deciding not to.

“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “I can’t swim well, it hurts too much right now,” he said, pointing to his leg.

The creature nodded to him, pointing to his leg and looking at him. “Yes,” it said. “Ouch!”

Dean furrowed his brow at the creature. “Yeah, ouch,” he agreed, and he got a happy squeal click combo in response. “That must be your native tongue,” Dean said to it, earning a confused look.

“Never mind,” he said quickly, not wanting to waste time on more confusion. “Boat?” He asked again. He was really hoping the thing knew where his boat had gone.

“Ouch,” the creature said again, pointing at his leg and then his injured arm.

“Yeah, ouch, they hurt,” Dean agreed again. “What about the boat?”

“Ouch!” It said insistently, swimming closer to him. It reached water too shallow to swim in and instead dragged itself to him through the sand, its tail sliding behind it, rising out of the water.

The sunlight made the black and royal blue shimmer wetly, and Dean was taken by how beautiful it was. Before he knew what was going on, the mermaid had grabbed the leg he was gingerly holding out of the water.

“Hey!” Dean said, looking down at the creature’s bright blue eyes. It suddenly yanked hard, minding the wound, and Dean ended up on his ass in the sand, wet and angry. “What the hell?” He demanded, letting out a startled grunt as it pulled him quickly into deeper water.

“Hey! Lemme go!” Dean yelled, trying to kick at it with his free leg. He felt the thing’s tail brush against him and it swung him around to hold him against its chest, his back against the thing and his arms crossed over his own chest.

It swam quickly back out to the rock Dean had woken up on and launched itself onto it with Dean, turning so that it landed on its back and Dean safely on its chest. Dean struggled off the creature and rolled to his knees on the rock, looking at the creature guardedly as it sat up and clicked at him.

“Ouch,” it said softly, pointing again to Dean’s leg and shoulder. “Yeah, so?” He asked, completely at a loss. The creature looked out over the water and back to Dean, looking down at its hands before looking back up to haltingly make ‘stay here’ motions.

“O..kay?” Dean said questioningly, not sure he could really do anything else with it sitting right there ready to drag him back.

It clicked happily at him and went back into the water, disappearing. “The actual hell,” Dean wondered, looking into the water and finding no trace of the mermaid. He sat back on the rock, figuring he’d watch the sunset for a while and if it didn’t come back he would just swim back to the island.

He grimaced as he shifted his leg. It really hurt; he wasn’t going to enjoy the swim back.

There was a small splash as the mermaid returned and his head broke the surface of the water. It looked at him with a smile and hopped back onto its previous spot on the rock, its tail trailing into the water as Dean sat back away from it.

“Ouch” it said, leaning forward. It had the mucus like stuff in its hand and it placed it in its lap as it held its hands out to Dean.

“What?” Dean asked, surprised when the creature patted his injured leg softly.

“Ouch,” it said, looking at him gently while it pulled at the leg. Dean sat all the way back, letting the thing stretch his leg into its lap just below the mucus stuff. It tilted its head and made soft clicks seemingly to itself, slowly unwrapping the cloth from the wound.

It turned Dean sideways as it studied the cut, and Dean awkwardly looked over his shoulder at it. He winced; it already looked infected.

“Ouch,” it said, shaking its head. It scooped up some of the green stuff and gently placed it in and around the wound. Dean sighed as a cold tingly feeling replaced the burning, earning a look from the creature before it went back to its business. It held the gaping cut closed for a moment before looking again at Dean.

It chirruped at him and moved his leg so that he got the hint to sit back up, and grabbed his hands and placed them where its own had been previously. He got the message he was to hold the cut closed and the creature dabbed the rest of the stuff onto his shoulder, whistling and clicking softly the whole time.

“Thank you,” Dean said, and it looked up at him. Dean stayed motionless, awed by the creature. Their faces were inches apart, and Dean took in the wide almond eyes, the plump pink lips, the faint freckles that peppered his skin, the slick shine of dark hair that was pushed back except for a few dark strands.

The creature was beautiful, and a human intelligence looked back at him from behind the clear blue eyes. “Welcome,” it said softly.

Dean blinked a few times, clearing his head. “So, um,” he coughed, not comfortable with finding a supposedly mythical creature attractive. “Boat?”

It tilted its head again, saying nothing. Then it pressed a hand to Dean’s chest, a quizzical look on its face. “Boat?” It asked, and Dean realized what it was asking.

“Oh!” he said, “No, I’m not boat! I’m Dean!”

The mermaid withdrew its hand, looking confused but nodding slowly. Dean placed his hand on his chest where the creature’s had previously been, meeting its gaze intently.

“Dean,” he said again, and the creature poked a finger gently onto Dean’s hand, searching his eyes.

“Dean?” it said softly, and Dean nodded with a grin. “Yes.”

The creature grinned back and withdrew its hand, placing it instead over its own chest. “Cas..Castiel!” It said, giving Dean a huge, proud smile.

Dean couldn’t resist, the thing was so cute. He slowly poked his finger onto its hand, grinning like an idiot. “Castiel,” he said. It laughed once and began clicking and chattering with that adorable smile, making its eyes crinkle and shimmer.

“Castiel,” Dean said again, laughing too. The mermaid stopped talking when Dean said his name again, and Dean grinned at the way the mermaid leaned forward, as if eager to hear him talk again. “What about the boat?” He asked again, really hoping this time Castiel would understand and answer him.

“Boat.” Castiel said, looking out to the ocean as he said it. The sun was fading more quickly now, and Dean knew he needed to get back to the island soon.

“Yeah, where did it go Castiel?” Dean asked, getting the mermaid’s attention back.

“Boat…went…ouch…” Castiel rubbed his shoulder and looked at Dean meaningfully. Dean hazarded a guess that the boat hit him at some point the previous night, which would explain the bumping that went on.

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly, reaching out to rub the mermaid’s shoulder gently. Castiel looked pleased at the sympathy and patted Dean’s hand.

“Don’t like boat,” he said dismissively. He then grinned softly. “Like Dean.”

Dean blinked. “Uh, like Castiel,” he said back, earning a happy chirp and a little wiggle from the mermaid.

“But,” he said, looking at the fading sun, “Dean also like boat.” Castiel sobered at that, looking seriously at Dean. He really hoped it didn’t end up offending the mermaid and making him run off, but he tried to continue.

“Boat no…ouch Dean,” he tried. “Boat helped Dean…like Castiel helped Dean.”

Castiel looked taken aback by the statement, and Dean worried that he messed up.

“Boat help Dean?” He asked, seemingly confused.

“Yeah! Yes!” Dean said, overjoyed that the mermaid was getting it.

“But spat Dean out,” Castiel said, looking at Dean like he was crazy.

“No, no,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I fell out.” Castiel’s head tilted, he looked lost.

“I fell…um..like this,” He said, looking over the rock. He made a show of pantomiming accidentally falling into the water, which made Castiel laugh. “Yeah, alright chuckles,” Dean said, snapping for his attention. It didn’t work well, that got the mermaid focused on his fingers, whistling softly as he pulled them apart and looked at them separately.

“That’s called snapping, I’ll teach you later if we can get back to what I was saying,” Dean said, and that got the mermaid to look up from his hand.

“That’s called.” Castiel repeated, pressing forward as he recognized the phrase. “That’s called!”

Dean nodded slowly, realizing he could probably use this to help communication if the mermaid already knew the phrase. “Yeah..um…like, that’s called..rock,” he said, pointing to the rock under them. Castiel looked under them, pointing his finger down as well, touching Dean’s finger against his own.

“That’s called rock,” he said, looking back up happily.

“Yep,” Dean said, patting the rock under them. “Rock.” He watched as Castiel patted the rock in the same place and repeated what he said, looking back up for confirmation. “Yes,” Dean said again.

Castiel then stretched and pointed to a different part of the rock, looking back at Dean. “Rock?” He asked.

“Yeah, still rock,” Dean said, watching as the mermaid pointed to several other spots on the rock for clarification before motioning to the whole thing, claiming loudly that it was a rock.

“Yep, the whole thing is a rock,” Dean repeated. It was definitely getting dark now, and Dean knew he needed to get back to his shelter before it got too dark to swim. He wasn’t sure how many night predators were in the waters, and that made him nervous.

Hopefully the boat conversation could continue tomorrow, hopefully the mermaid would stay around for another day. Dean decided to tell Castiel he was going back.

“Dean, um, go to island,” he said, pointing back at the island. Castiel followed his hand and looked back at Dean, instantly shaking his head.

“No,” he said seriously. “Dean rock,” he said, patting between them with both hands. Dean sighed. No way did he want to sleep on a fucking rock again, the breeze was getting cold.

“No, Dean island,” he insisted, pointing again back to the beach. Castiel shook his head, his mostly dry hair falling across his forehead.

“Dangerous,” he said, surprising Dean.

“Dangerous?” Dean asked, getting a nod in return. “Like, ouch?”

Castiel made a soft click, glancing to the beach. He looked back at Dean and put a hand on his leg. “Dean rock.” He pointed to the darkening sky, and Dean looked up.

“Night,” Dean said, shivering slightly. The draft from the water around him would not be fun when it got even darker.

Castiel looked at him. “Night,” he said, pointing to the sky, “Rock,” he finished, pointing to the rock.

“Okay, you want me on the rock at night because the island is apparently dangerous,’ Dean said quickly, getting a confused look from Castiel.

“Slow,” he insisted, getting closer in the growing darkness.

“Dean stay on rock at night,” Dean said slowly, nodding his head. Castiel nodded in response.

“Dean stay on rock at night,” he repeated, saying it over and over, like he was memorizing the words.

Dean let him do that for a while, laying back in the growing darkness. He shivered again as the sun set completely, watching as the starts started to show up. Soon his eyes were adjusted and there were billions of them dotting the night sky.

He realized Castiel had gone quiet for a while and looked down, finding him looking up at the sky as well. As if Castiel could feel his gaze, the mermaid looked down, only a vague outline due to the fact that there was no moon. Dean shivered again, hugging himself.  It was definitely cold.

From the island he heard a strange noise, a cross between a grunt and strange snort making him prop up on his uninjured arm to look. At once Castiel growled low in his throat, the dangerous sound startling Dean as the mermaid pushed Dean back down, hovering possessively over him as he looked out to the island.

Dean said nothing as the mermaid continued the low growl, harsh clicks punctuating it in the back of his throat. Castiel settled behind Dean, his fins puffing out around him and Dean protectively as he draped an arm possessively over Dean’s chest.

Dean couldn’t really complain though, because somehow the mermaid was warm. He was like a freaking heater, even his tail. Dean shivered and he felt the tail wrap tighter around them, and he was grateful for the heat. His shiver got the mermaid’s attention, and he found himself looking up into the face of Castiel once again, even closer than before, albeit ill-defined from the lack of lighting.

Dean swallowed hard, forcing his mind to ignore how attractive the mermaid was. He was an entirely different _species_ , there was absolutely no way he should think the creature was attractive. Especially not when the thing was draped across him and on his chest like some fucked up version of The Little Mermaid.

“Castiel,” Dean began, trying to figure out how to politely tell the mermaid to get off of him.

“That’s called?” He suddenly got in response, the questioning tone followed by a tug on his jeans. Dean sighed, earning a repeat of the question and another tug on his jeans.

“That’s called pants,” he answered, grunting in surprise as Castiel maneuvered himself into a more comfortable position, making Dean the little spoon in the process. He felt the mermaid’s tail curl more protectively around him as more aggressive sounds came from the island. Dean decided not to resist; after all, he was being protected. Maybe in the most surreal way he had ever known, but beggars couldn’t be choosers he guessed.

“Pants,” Castiel said after a minute, snuggling against Dean’s back and putting an arm under Dean’s head.

“Yep...” Dean said, not sure how to respond to the situation.

“Pants.”

Dean let him murmur that to himself until he got quiet. For a while he listened to the sounds coming from the island, occasionally hearing fighting sounds among the animals. His brain tried to come up with something that would make those noises, and he pictured large bore-like creatures fighting over each other. He felt himself drifting off when he felt another tug in the darkness.

“Don’t tug on that, Castiel.”

“That’s called?”

“That’s called pants, we’ve been over this one.”

“Pants.”

“Yes, Castiel, pants. Don’t pull on that.”

“That’s called?”

“Shirt.”

“Yeah, no pull shirt.”

“No pull shirt.”

“No pull!”

“Ohh, no pull.”

“Yeah. Hey now.”

“That’s called?”

“Hair. No pull.”

“Oh. Hair. Hair. That’s called?”

“That’s still hair, Castiel. No pull hair.”

“No pull hair. No pull shirt?”

“No pull hair or shirt.”

“No pull hair or shirt.”

“Good.”

“That’s called?”

“That’s called ear.”

“Ear.”

“Yeah. Ouch! It’s too dark for this Castiel!”

“That’s called?”

“That’s called eye. No poke eye.”

“No..poke?”

“Ouch! No poke dammit!”

“Ohh, no poke. Ouch.”

“Oh my fucking god.”

“Oh my fucking god?”

“Go to bed Castiel.”

“Go to bed?”

“Yeah, sleep.”

“Sleep?”

“Dean sleep.”

“That’s called sleep?”

“It’s ‘what is’ sleep.”

“Slow, Dean.”

“Shhh.”

“Dean?—“

“Shh!”

“…Sssh?”

“I’m not responding anymore. Dean sleep.”

“That’s called sleep Dean?”

“Shhh, Dean sleep. For the love of god.”

“Slow!”

“Dean. Sleep. Hush.”

“Hush?”

Dean felt behind him until he found Castiel’s lips. He covered them. “Hush. Shhhh.” Castiel seemed to get the picture after a few time of talking again and getting the same result, and he settled behind Dean again, staying quiet.

After a while Dean felt the mermaid begin tracing patterns along his back and wondered if the creature even slept at night, or at all. Surely he would have to. The tracing felt really good on his back and Dean sleepily decided he didn’t care if the mermaid wouldn’t sleep, if this was the result. He sighed softly and let himself drift off, ignoring the fact that he was comfortable with being cuddled up in a mermaid’s arms for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the hunt for Dean, Sam has been encountering difficulties of his own. Good thing a mysterious stranger just happens to pass into town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been so long! I'll have part three up soon, since this one is so short!

Sam slumped into a booth in a corner of the ocean-side bar, burying his face in his hands with a tired sigh. He was absolutely beat. Two months of searching for Dean had yielded absolutely nothing, but it wasn’t like he could just give up the search.

Not that anyone else around the harbor agreed or really cared. After their boat was rescued, Sam had insisted on a manhunt for his brother, but the coast guard had pretty much quit the search for Dean by the end of the first couple weeks.

Bobby had stuck by his side as long as he could, but other obligations had come up, and now he too was gone. Now, Sam was alone and looking for anyone who would let him on their boat and look for his brother.

The problem with that was word spread quickly throughout the surrounding harbors. Not many people were willing to give up prime fishing time to look for someone who they believed to be most likely dead, and they treated Sam with pity if he offered to repay them with services or money.

It was fast becoming a hopeless situation and Sam knew it. He refused to believe Dean was dead though. He had seen one of the creatures drag him off. He just had to find where the damn thing went and he would find Dean.

“Hey, kiddo, you look like you need a drink.”

Sam jumped at the intrusion and looked up to find a smiling golden haired man looking at him. The stranger slid into the booth opposite of Sam and sat down the extra bottle of beer he was holding in front of him.

“Thanks,” Sam said, deciding to ignore the kiddo reference in favor of accepting the free drink.

“What brings you around these parts I wonder,” The stranger said, settling down in his seat with an entitled air, like he owned the place.

Sam raised an eyebrow, unamused at the question. “I find it hard to believe you haven’t heard about me already,” he answered, taking a drink.

“On the contrary,” the man said, “I own a yacht that I live on. I’m just traveling through these parts and decided to stop in here for a drink, so I’m not privy to the common knowledge the locals share.” He paused, his eyes glimmering over his bottle as he took a drink. “Why should I have heard about you, hm?” He asked, looking at Sam attentively with a look of amusement.

Sam bit his lip, looking down at his bottle while he processed this information. The realization that this guy could be his chance to get back out and keep looking for Dean was not lost on him, and he wondered how to best bring up the topic to get the result he wanted.

“Hey, now, don’t think so hard about it,” The man said, leaning forward with an endearing look. “I’m good at finding things in common with people from all different walks of life.”

Sam looked up, confused. He felt his eyebrows furrow as he tried to figure out what the man was getting at. Surely he wasn’t a fellow hunter. If Bobby had sent help he would have called and told him first.

Apparently his look was misread, because the golden haired stranger leaned back and laughed at his expression, waving a hand in front of him in a ‘don’t worry’ kind of way.

“Listen, don’t be offended, honestly,” he chuckled, looking back at Sam with a devious smirk. “I was looking for some company tonight anyway. I guess it’s my lucky night,” he finished with a wink.

“What-“ Sam started, his eyes widening as he realized what the man was implying.

“No need to play coy,” the stranger said cheerily, interrupting him with another wave of his hand. “As I said before, I own a very nice yacht, which accurately implied I make quite a bit of money. It gets lonely keeping all that luxury to myself though,” he said in a low voice, raising his eyebrows at Sam from across the table. “I’d love your company tonight.”

Sam felt his mouth hanging open slightly before he could compose himself. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and ran a hand through his hair, finally meeting the smug gaze of the stranger across from him.

“I’m not a prostitute,” he said hurriedly, in a hushed tone. He instinctively leaned forward to make himself smaller; hoping no one in the bar had noticed their little interaction. It wasn't like the man across from him had been very discreet. He hazarded a look around him and to his dismay saw several curious looks dart away from his table. He felt himself blushing hotly and put his face in his open palm, mortified.

“Hey now, alright” the guy across from him said with a light chuckle. “Sorry about the confusion. You okay?” He asked.

Sam felt his light touch on the back of his other hand, still clutched around his bottle. He jerked his hand away, his gaze snapping up to the other man’s honey colored eyes.

“No, I’m not okay,” Sam said in a low voice, glaring at him across the table. “My brother is missing, lost somewhere out in the ocean, I’m stuck in this damn town practically begging for a ride or a boat to get out and find him, and now because of you these idiots think I’m a _prostitute_.”

The stranger’s gaze flicked to the people around them, an eyebrow raising unamusedly as the sheepish people looked back down at their tables or awkwardly in another direction.

“Yeesh, look at these carrion birds,” the man muttered under his breath, turning his attention back to Sam. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking sincere for the first time since he introduced himself. “I didn't realize. Subtlety isn't exactly my forte.”

Sam sighed, his indignant anger seeping away like the tide outside. He felt miserable. “It’s fine, just a mistake,” he muttered, digging in his pocket to get some cash out and laying it on the table. “Hope you find the company you’re looking for,” he said, scooting out from the booth.

A hand grabbed his own, stilling him. Sam looked at the man holding him with a tired expression. “Look, I’m not interested, so if you could just leave me alone, that’d be great.” He said.

“I get that,” the man said, keeping his grip on Sam’s hand. “But these idiots clearly aren’t helping you out much. What about your brother being lost in the ocean?”

Sam wouldn’t have said anything had the man not seemed so openly concerned. But his expression, clearly troubled even though it was for someone he had never met, made him spill the entire story, even telling him what he had seen drag Dean off.

“You sure it wasn’t a shark of some kind?” The man asked over their third beer.

Sam shook his head. “It was definitely not a shark.” He paused as a look crossed over the man’s face. “Look, I know it seems crazy, but I’m telling you—“

“Don’t get me wrong,” the man said, interrupting Sam. “I believe you. I’ve seen some weird shit of my own in the open ocean.” He grimaced. “It just doesn’t seem like your brother would have survived that.”

Sam shook his head firmly. “Dean is a survivor. He’s somewhere, alive. I know it.”

The man said nothing for a moment, studying Sam over his beer. Finally he tapped the table and shifted, grinning with a little shrug.

“Okay then kiddo, if you’re so sure,” he said. “You want a ride?”

Sam searched the man’s face, almost disbelieving. “You’re serious?” Sam asked, straightening up.

The man nodded with a grin, finishing his beer before he spoke again. “You’re dead set on finding your brother, and I’m lonely on my boat. This sounds like an adventure I’d be in to.”

Sam nodded slowly, a problem presenting itself. “Look, I’ll pay you in money or whatever, but I’m really in no way a prostitute.”

Sam got another dismissive hand wave and was silenced. “None of that,” the man assured easily. “No payment necessary; just be a good travel companion and we’ll get along fine.”

“…Okay,” Sam said finally, earning an easy smile from his new travel companion.

The man reached out a hand across the table, leaning in with his grin. “The name is Gabriel. Gabe is fine too, I answer to both.” 

Sam took it and smiled tentatively, shaking his hand. “Sam.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back on the island, Dean gets more comfortable with Cas, and in the process somehow becomes more happy than he had ever though possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College is kicking my ass, but I have a great idea for the next chapter. More to come, I swear!

“Cas, dammit! Get back here, I need that!”

All he heard was giggling, and the mermaid slipped away into the tree line, Dean’s stolen shirt disappearing with him.

“Dammit,” Dean muttered under his breath, trying to make himself more angry than amused. “It’s not fair that you can swim circles around me in the water _and_ run away with my stuff on land!” He called loudly after the creature.

And it definitely wasn’t. Dean shook his head as he again remembered that first day he had woken up to find a naked and seemingly human Castiel curled up with him on their rock instead of the mermaid he had gone to sleep with.

Finding feet instead of fins had made Dean’s brain short circuit, and he had fallen off the rock and into the water (much to Castiel’s delight and amusement) in shock. Further questioning revealed that Cas was apparently able to switch forms when in and out of the water, and that it was completely normal.

Well, as normal as the situation could be.

A little over three months had passed since Dean had fallen from the boat, if the moon and his daily marks on a nearby tree were accurate. And in that time he had found out that Castiel had once known a human.

The guy (who Castiel would only affectionately refer to in his own language or as “brother” ever since Dean mentioned the term using himself and Sam as a reference) had apparently taught him the basics of the English language, which had been unused for years if Dean had understood Castiel correctly.

This made the mermaid very rusty, but with months of brushing up on it, Castiel had proven a miraculously quick learner. He remembered his past knowledge within a few days, and accumulated all new information after his basic foundation at an astounding rate. Dean was pretty sure no human could master another language so quickly.

But he had, and here they were, together on an island. Castiel was playful and full of energy, always inquisitive, and naturally happy. It had made the depressing thought of being lost at sea and never able to see his brother again actually…bearable.

After a few weeks of not being rescued, Dean asked if Castiel could swim out in search for a boat, any boat, in the open ocean. After a full day without Castiel’s return Dean had realized how stupid and selfish he had been asking a mythical creature to risk being seen for his sake.

By day two he had practically been in pieces, guilt and fear tearing him up inside. When Cas had returned later that night, Dean didn’t even mind that much that the mermaid hadn’t found any boats in his adventure.

Dean didn’t ask Cas to go out again after that. He couldn’t stand the thought of Castiel being in danger. Almost as importantly, Dean knew he owed his life and his sanity to the the creature; he would have already been dead had Cas not repeatedly saved him.

Which led him to wonder at the dynamic of their relationship. Cas didn’t seem very worried about it. In fact, he was absolutely the opposite of worried about it; cuddling and touching were things that came naturally to the creature.

At first Dean said nothing about the strangeness of it all; partially because he didn’t want to offend his only source of staving off madness, and partially because twistedly enough he didn’t mind the cute creature’s affections. It was a fact that he tried to cover up and ignore, but only succeeded in feeling the classic Winchester-guilt over every time he let it happen.

As the weeks went by, Dean found himself easily returning the affections without a thought, which was bizarre and unsettling when he realized he was doing it. He couldn’t decide if it was the apparent innocence of Castiel that had him twisted in knots, or that the gestures didn’t mean the same thing to Cas as it did to him. It was most likely a combination of the two, if Dean was being honest.

But that didn’t stop him from doing it, or letting Cas do it. And it didn’t stop his growing feelings of attraction toward the creature. At times he tried to justify his feelings using excuses like “he was all alone out here and just a man” and “Cas was cute anyway” and “The Little Mermaid did it and everything turned out okay.”

Those thoughts usually led him to harshly mentally berating himself, also bringing about a fresh wave of guilt. It was like he was taking advantage of an innocent, but that innocent was literally throwing themselves at him every single day. The worst part was, as more time went by, it slipped into a natural reaction for Dean, his continuous hangups be damned.

It felt weirdly natural to hold the creature, to kiss his forehead in passing if they were scavenging on the beach and Cas proudly presented something shiny to Dean as an obvious present. Or to cuddle up together by the fire as they ate whatever Castiel had caught from the ocean, Dean’s arms wrapped around Castiel’s slightly smaller frame as the man settled between his legs and against his chest.

Dean found the sound of Castiel’s heartbeat to be the best lullaby he had ever heard, something that instantly calmed and relaxed him. He started to get the various clicks and squeaks and squeals and whines Cas would make, mostly because he emitted them when he was content, or excited, or happy in some way.

The foreign language felt almost familiar to him, something he couldn’t understand with his mind but knew in his bones anyway. Just like Cas.

As more weeks passed, Dean felt the inner resistance to whatever their relationship was fall away. After all, he reasoned, no one was there to see them. And it wasn’t like they weren’t both happy.

In fact, Dean couldn’t really remember a time when he was so content. Which would have scared him had he not been so caught up in the pleasant emotion.

It was the little things. Sleeping on their rock, swimming together in the clear blue ocean, Cas playing with his toes in the sand, giggling about the “small fins” being so useless for things, Cas climbing trees and then refusing to come back down.

It made Dean chuckle as he remembered.

The first time he had gotten stuck, Dean had to convince the terrified creature to jump into his arms, and after he had finally done it and been caught with no harm done Castiel had decided it was a fun game. Not that Dean minded having to repeatedly catch and hold him every time he decided to do it.

Dean was grinning to himself, thinking over these things, when he heard rustling in the foliage behind him. He said nothing as Castiel came back into view, wearing his tattered Zepp shirt as a headband with a triumphant grin.

“That’s mine and you know it,” Dean admonished, looking back down as he tended the fire.

“Not anymore,” Castiel said, settling into the sand just out of easy reach. He leaned back on his hands, his chest bare and on display.

Dean rolled his eyes as they strayed briefly to the makeshift grass, leaf, and vine skirt he insisted Castiel wear when in human form, the man’s legs lean yet well-muscled beneath it.

The skirt had been a huge ordeal when Dean had made it. Castiel rebelled against the idea of “clothes” for himself, and it took several days of convincing and determined reinforcement and threats to get him to grudgingly wear it.

Cas was now just at the point that he didn’t constantly argue about wearing the damned thing. Dean didn’t care if he liked it or not; in human form he had all the correct anatomy for a male, and Dean wasn’t having Castiel running around cuddling up to him naked. He could only take so much, for Christ’s sake.

“Fine, keep it,” Dean said, feigning nonchalance. He heard a low noise of discontent and saw Castiel’s pout from the corner of his eye. He just barely suppressed a grin.

“What are we gonna do for dinner?” Dean asked, sitting back to lounge against the warm sand as well while he listened to the satisfying crackle of his fire.

Castiel shrugged, still sporting his pout while he looked out to the ocean. Clearly he wasn’t intent on cooperating if Dean wasn’t interested in playing the take back game. He shifted sand with his fingers and kept ignoring Dean.

With a grin Dean said nothing, instead lying back onto the sand. He felt the sun warm his face and was grateful for the almost constant tropical breeze. Without it, the heat would be unbearable. With it though, it was paradise, and Dean closed his eyes and enjoyed the sounds and smells of the tropics around him.

Soon enough though, he heard what he had really been waiting for. The soft shift of sand marked Castiel’s quiet approach, and a shadow shielded his face from the sun as Cas looked down at him from above.

“Dean?” He heard Castiel say in a small voice. He lay still, forcing his face to remain composed. He felt jolted slightly as Castiel shook him, adamant.

“Dean!” Castiel whined, eventually lying on Dean’s unmoving chest with a huff. He restlessly nuzzled against Dean’s chest and neck. “Pay attention to me!” He whined insistently, prodding at Dean’s face.

He couldn’t help it, he cracked up. He opened his eyes and looked at the squirming man draped across him with a laugh, gently grabbing his shirt from Castiel’s tousled hair while brushing down his cheek with his other hand.

“You’re too much,” Dean said, chuckling as Castiel rubbed noses with him in response. He heard small squeaks and clicks come from the back of Castiel’s throat, and recognized the sounds as good natured contentment.

“Seriously now, what are we gonna eat?” Dean asked, ignoring the same feeling that spread through him in response and sitting them both up. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“I can catch something!” Cas said excitedly, now all smiles and energy. He hopped to his feet, quickly shimmying out of the skirt with a strange grace, considering he spent most of his time until now with a tail, and bounded into the water.

Dean was careful not to look until Castiel had disappeared; only turning back when he heard the distinct splash of Cas’s tail hitting the surface of the water as he went under.

He sighed, poking the fire with a nearby stick idly. He still didn’t feel comfortable with asking if being easy going with personal space and a lack of clothing was something that Cas just did, but he was becoming way too okay with it.

He couldn’t even base Castiel’s behavior off of other mermaids either; there were none that he had seen. When he had tried to question Cas about it once the mermaid had refused to say anything on the matter, and remained in an odd mood for a few days after.

Dean was sure about one thing though; he absolutely did not want to take advantage of the situation. He just couldn’t help but worry that was where it was all headed.

It was a fuzzy and indistinct blur of a relationship, so as long as it wasn’t defined then Dean couldn’t really be expected to worry over it, could he? The desire to worry over that particular issue had long passed; instead, Dean felt other emotions concerning Castiel entirely. That was what worried him now.

Those times were usually when Castiel was naked. But Dean shoved the thought out of his head as soon as it entered. Castiel was entirely too innocent to think those things about, and Dean made sure he kept ironclad control over any thoughts concerning…less than innocent things.

He decided to find some coconuts while Castiel was away to keep his mind in check. He knew it wouldn’t take the mermaid long to find some kind of fish, the guy was a hell of a hunter, so he only had a little time before he would need  to cook what was caught.

But Dean had found that Cas liked coconut milk with a passion bordering on obsession, and tried to make it a special treat every now and then.

“What I wouldn’t give for a bacon cheeseburger and a slice of pie,” Dean mused to himself as he climbed a tree and got a couple coconuts down. They fell into the sand with dull thuds, and as Dean climbed down the tree and hoisted the large fruits back to the fire, he reminisced about the savory taste of burgers and flaky pie crusts.

Cas returned before the sun was starting to set, squealing triumphantly in the water before calling out.

“Dean!”

Dean had finished cutting open the fruits, and they lay nestled in the sand as he got up and waded into the water, taking part in their usual routine.

Cas would catch the fish, and bring them into the shallows for Dean to come and get. As Dean waded out, he saw Cas had caught one absolutely massive fish.

“That sucker is huge,” Dean commented, taking it from the obviously pleased mermaid. Cas swam around Dean in a tight circle, splashing out of the water to jump on his back with a tight hug and a wet nose nuzzled against his face. Dean chuckled at the soft clicks he got in his ear in return for the praise.

“Alright, alright,” Dean said, shaking Castiel off with a laugh. “I’m gonna go fillet this mother and cook her up. You, uh…get changed.”

“Okay!” Castiel replied, pushing off onto his back and splashing Dean with his tail. Quickly Dean retreated back onto shore, and proceeded to gut and begin to cook the fish.

He heard Cas coming out of the water and determinedly focused on the fish roasting on the spit over the flames. He didn’t look up as he heard soft noises coming from behind him. He knew what he’d see; he watched it a few times in abject amazement.

Cas would come out of the water, basically beach himself, and as he dried out under the sun his tail would start to recede. His black and royal blue fins would flatten against his sides, as his bottom fins would separate and become something shaped like feet.

He would develop thighs, which the fins would blend into, becoming muscle and skin, and he would form two separate legs. His legs and feet would then finish properly forming and defining themselves. The colors were the last thing to go; for a small time his legs would stay a mix of black and blue until that too faded, matching his leg skin to that of the rest of his body.

Castiel said it felt immensely uncomfortable, but apparently didn’t mind it much, since he made the transformation several times a day to either swim or be with Dean on land. Total it took about five minutes, and it made Dean’s head hurt to think about. Sure he had seen some weird shit hunting; but the way Dean saw it Cas’s transformation was definitely on par with a shifter’s.

Dean focused on keeping the fire high as Cas finished his transformation and came to sit beside him. The creature was unusually quiet as the fire popped and sizzled, but Dean didn’t really mind the silence.

As the sun began to sink slowly toward the horizon, both Dean and Castiel sat and ate, the stillness between them unbroken. Dean studied Castiel, who was looking very seriously out to sea.

“You okay, Cas?” Dean asked, finishing up with the meal and laying back on the sand. Castiel glanced at him before looking back to the water. He almost looked…bashful.

“Cas?” Dean questioned again, slightly worried. It was seriously weird for the mermaid to be this quiet.

“I’m just thinking,” Castiel finally replied, looking at Dean full-on, a small smile on his lips. Dean relaxed and grinned back.

“What’s so serious in that head of yours?” Dean asked, watching as Cas picked up a handful of sand, letting it run through his fingers. He shrugged, looking at Dean from under his eyelashes.

Dean felt his stomach do a flip at the sight of the coy look. He pushed away the feeling quickly.

“Come on,” Dean coaxed, leaning in closer to the mermaid. This was a different game than the kind  Cas usually played, but Dean was interested now.

“Cas—“ Dean stopped as Castiel dropped his coy act, the creature’s head snapping  up suddenly as he looked past Dean with an alert and suspicious stare.

Dean turned, and it didn’t take any time at all to see what had caught Cas’s eye.

“A boat!” Dean gasped, his heart stuttering at the sight.

And it was heading their way.


End file.
